Page 2 of Home Is Where the Witch Is
“Okay, thanks.” Apparently deciding juice was a pretty good second option, Maggie headed toward Declan’s truck where they usually kept their refreshments. He’d parked it under the huge fairy tree, which for the most part had fared pretty well in the fire that had claimed Fox Cottage. There were a few singed branches still hanging on for dear life, but Rosie avoided looking at them for now because it made her heart hurt.
Deciding that was his cue to get back to work, Declan got Myles to help him continue measuring where the internal house walls would go. The doting fathers were doing their part for Nourish too. While neither of them were particularly talented in the kitchen, they both did what they could there. They waited and bussed tables too, keeping the family business ticking like clockwork. For Rosie’s part, she hated not being able to do much of anything when there was so much that needed attending to.
An hour or so later, real progress had been made. All the measurements had been made and then checked twice, and all the rubble and other debris had been piled up in the bed of Declan’s battered old red pickup to take away. Standing back by the fairy tree, Rosie could really see Fox Cottage starting to come alive again. If they could get enough dry-wall and the siding was delivered on time, they might even have an honest-to-goodness shell by the end of the summer.
A gentle swooping motion inside of her belly made her smile, and she absently placed a hand on the spot. It was almost as though the baby inside of her could see its ancestral home being reimagined, too. Rosie’s gaze went from the house frame to her family as they started to pack up their tools, and then to the brilliant blue sky. The heat of the day had well and truly settled in, and it was definitely time to go open Nourish for the summer lunch crowd.
“Soon,” she promised the little one in her womb, sensing their impatience to be part of this wonderful world.
A few hours later,Rosie was watching the afternoon clouds skim through the same blue sky as she and Maggie rocked lazily on the porch swing in the backyard of Carol-Ann’s house.
It was weird. Try though she might, Rosie would never be able to think about this place as hers—even though her name was on the deed. Carol-Ann had left too great a mark on it, and too big a hole in Rosie’s heart when she’d passed. There was a comfort in that, though. It was as though any moment Carol-Ann’d come out the back screen door with an offer of sweet tea and sandwiches or warn them not to get eaten alive by mosquitoes as the day faded into twilight.
“Do you want to keep your room the same as before?” she asked her daughter, wondering whether Maggie’s maturity meant she was beyond the things she’d loved about her old room.
The yard was small and fenced in, but it was lush with plants that made Rosie’s heart sing. She’d definitely be taking cuttings and seeds with her back to Fox Cottage. A little piece of Carol-Ann with her in the woods sounded heavenly. Above the fence line, The Ridge swept up into Needlepoint Woods. Rosie traced its lazy incline with her gaze. It was strange to be here looking up, instead of at her kitchen window looking down.
Maggie let herself enjoy a big deep breath full of warm summer air while she contemplated the question.
“I’ll probably make a few changes,” she conceded. “I think I’d like to have more plants in there. Maybe around the porthole.”
Rosie was relieved to hear the porthole was staying. The quirky window was one of her favorite things about Fox Cottage. It was so unexpected and different and it just worked with the rest of the house in a fun way.
“I’ll always agree to more plants,” she told Maggie with a smile.
“I’d like to grow some from seeds,” Maggie added.
Thatsurprised Rosie. While Maggie enjoyed being outside as much as the next kid, she’d never really shown in interest in gardening or growing veggies, or any of the things parents tended to do with their little ones. And it wasn’t like Maggie was a green witch either—her magic was definitely tending more toward fire, if her battle tactics during the war had been anything to go by.
“You can definitely do that,” Rosie encouraged, slinging an arm around Maggie to draw her close. Despite the lingering heat of the afternoon there was a cool breeze that made the day pleasant.
“Any inklings yet?” Maggie asked then, reaching out to put a gentle hand on top of Rosie’s belly. The subject of the baby’s sex was a matter of hot contention within their circle of loved ones. Tammy and Myles had elected to not find out, which seemed to both delight and frustrate Tammy in equal measure.
Ever since she’d found out she was expecting, Rosie had been desperate to know whether it was a boy or a girl, but the baby just didn’t seem to want to give up the goss. Try though they might, none of the doctors or nurses or technicians Rosie had seen throughout her pregnancy had been able to determine the sex one way or another—even though they'd assured her the baby was absolutely fine and healthy.
Rosie glanced down at her bump, tempted to give the baby a little poke for being so troublesome.
“None,” she sighed a little melodramatically. “I hope this kid isn’t going to be so secretive when they come out!”
“Or at least if they are, I hope they spill the tea to their big sis!” Maggie giggled. If there was one thing Maggie loved, it was being in the loop. Rosie nestled her head against the top of Maggie’s relishing the moment. She was getting so tall these days, and truly beginning to look like a young woman, even if that was happening a little early for Rosie’s liking.
But time, as usual, would stop for no one. Maggie would grow up, go through school and graduate the same as Gabe. The new baby would, too. Even though being an empty-nester was still pretty far into the future, Rosie would have been facing it sooner if not for the baby. She thought about her ancestors, and wondered how they dealt with their daughters going out into the big wide world one by one.
“I’m sure that the baby will love you, and look up to you,” Rosie promised, pressing a kiss to the top of Maggie’s head. “Just as I’m sure you will love the baby and look out for them.”
The distant sound of a heavy car door closing with a clonk roused Rosie from the soft, dream-like state she had drifted into while lazing on the swing. “Sounds like Declan’s home,” she said, starting the long journey between lounging and sitting. By the time he made it through the house to the porch, she was finally ready to stand. He came forward to help her up, rusty hair mussed and green eyes lighting up at the sight of his wife.
“Alright, darlin’?”
“Peachy,” Rosie replied with teasing sarcasm.
Maggie grinned. “You look like you swallowed a beach ball!”
“Don’t remind me,” Rosie groaned, stretching her back while holding onto Declan’s arm for support. “Tammy isn’t this big and she’s about ready to pop! It’s so unfair.”
“Not long now, love,” Declan reassured her, reaching around with one of his huge hands to rub the small of her back soothingly. It felt so good she could have purred, and Rosie leaned in to his touch as it calmed one of her many aches. “Reckon the wee’an might come a tad early!”
“We can only hope,” Rosie agreed as the three of them made their way into the house. “But not too early!”
